Broken Glasses
by MayFairy
Summary: After leaving the graveyard, the Doctor has to tell Kate what happened to Osgood. She doesn't take it well. Missing scene from Death In Heaven, one-shot.


**WHY DID I WRITE THIS**

 **Because I am a masochist with an addiction to angst, that's why. I realised that we never see Kate find out about Osgood's death. So I wrote it.**

* * *

After the Brigadier took off into the sky, there wasn't much left to do but get his daughter back to UNIT HQ. The Doctor crossed the grass to get back to where Clara was still kneeling at Kate's side.

"She'll need to get in touch with Geneva and let them know what happened," he said. Then he knelt so that he could scoop Kate Lethbridge-Stewart into his arms and carry her bridal style back to the TARDIS. Clara silently followed. The Doctor put Kate, who had lost whatever consciousness she may have briefly gained, on the jump seat as gently as he could.

Once he had materialised the TARDIS in Kate's office, he picked her up again and exited the box. The office overlooked the city center and had a long cushioned window seat which he laid her down on.

"Are we going now?" Clara asked. It was the first time she had spoken since leaving the graveyard.

"Not just yet," the Doctor replied. "She deserves to know what happened on the plane. Missy killed her assistant. She needs to know."

"Oh," the small brunette said, her lips parting with surprise as her face fell, "Okay. I think I'll just wait in the TARDIS, if that's alright."

He simply nodded and sat down by Kate's feet, waiting for her to wake up. It took her exactly four minutes and thirteen seconds. She came to with a groan and immediately clutched her head.

"Where am I?" She asked as she opened her eyes.

"Your office."

Her brown eyes flicked to the blue box taking up most of the space in the room. "Right." Then, as if only just remembering, they widened and her head snapped to look at him as she sat up. "My father. My father saved me."

"Yes, he did," the Doctor said, smiling just a little. "As if he would have done anything else."

"The plane," Kate murmured, "It was going down." The urgency of it struck her. "What happened to the plane?"

"I think you know what happened to the plane." Kate's silence following his words told him that he was right. Her jaw locked and she glanced away from him. "But you need to know…your assistant." Her blonde head turned back to him sharply.

"Was she on the plane when it-"

"No," he said, but he saw something that looked like hope or excitement start to take up in Kate's eyes, and had to keep going before it could get any further. "When Missy first got out...she killed her." When Kate just stared, the Doctor sighed heavily, recalling with heavy hearts how he had found the cracked glasses on the floor of the cargo hold. "I'm so sorry, Kate. She killed Osgood and it's my fault. I should never have left her alone."

Kate's face crumbled. "Oh god," she whispered, her hand coming up to cover her mouth, "Osgood." Tears began to silently roll down her face as she took in several gasping breaths. The Doctor just watched, unsure of what to say. He hadn't known how close Kate had been with her spectacled assistant, but could now see that Kate had obviously come to care for her quite a lot.

"I'm sorry," he said again, as if it changed anything. As if it made it better. He knew it didn't.

"She was only twenty six," Kate managed to get out, her voice cracking, "It was her birthday next week. I'd already ordered her flowers." The thought of the flowers arriving with a cheerful birthday message for a girl who had been brutally murdered was an awful one, one that made the Doctor feel as sick to the stomach as Kate appeared to feel. "She was almost like a daughter to me."

"I was thinking I'd ask her to travel with me," the Doctor admitted, "I told her she could consider putting all of time and space on her bucket list."

There was a pause, before Kate said, "You were going to steal my assistant?" Her tone had just a hint of petty annoyance amongst the grief.

"You can't _steal_ a person, Kate, it would have been her choice."

"Yeah, well now she doesn't have _any_ choice because that ridiculous monster killed her," she snapped, her hands shaking in her lap. She shut her eyes. "Where is she?"

"Osgood? She's…gone with the plane. Sorry."

"No." Kate's voice was tight. "Her _murderer_. Where is she?"

"She's gone too," the Doctor said, and when it looked like she thought he meant _escaped_ and was about to get angry, he hastened to add, "Your father saw to that."

She hesitated, not quite understanding, before working out what that had to mean. "Good. I imagine he would have been glad to finally get the chance to shoot her after all these years."

"Yes, I imagine he would," the Doctor agreed. He didn't know how he felt about Missy being shot, but then that was likely because he wasn't entirely convinced that she was dead. It had looked eerily like a teleport.

They sat in silence for a short while. The Doctor imagined that a human in his place would offer her comfort through a physical gesture like a hug or a squeeze of the hand, but such things felt foreign to him in this body so he just sat and stared at her, wishing there was something he could do to make it better.

"You should have told me from the beginning that she was the Master," Kate eventually said, a dangerous edge in her voice, "I'd have never left Osgood with her if I had known."

"Are you sure about that?"

"…no." Kate wiped at her eyes. "But why did it have to be _her_?"

"Because she was brilliant, and brave. The sad truth of it is that it's always the innocents who get hurt."

Kate glanced at him, her expression hard to read, and set her jaw. "Get out." He just stared at her. "Get out of my office." When he didn't move, her expression twisted into one of torment and resentment as she got to her feet. "You know, I grew up on stories about you. About how you save the day, how you're a hero. And I'm sorry, Doctor, but today you failed me, and you failed her. And all of this happened because of _your_ enemy, _your_ friend who went off the rails decades ago. This is on you. And I need you to leave me in peace."

When the Doctor looked at her in that moment, he didn't see the grown woman who had just lost her assistant/friend. He saw the little girl he had met once when he had been wearing velvet and opera capes, who back then had been all wide eyes and smiles but now stared at him with tears and disappointment in her eyes. Disappointment in someone she had been told was a hero.

"I'm sorry, Kate." He stood up.

She just moved her eyes to look out at the cityscape. "So am I." It wasn't apologetic – it was bitter and _hurt_ and the Doctor knew he deserved all of her accusation.

Without another word, he got into his TARDIS so that he could drop Clara home and find out if Missy had told the truth about Gallifrey's coordinates.

* * *

Other than a quick call to Geneva to tell them that the situation had been dealt with, Kate spoke to no one else that day. She went home to her empty apartment and let the numbness of grief (which she had barely managed to shake since her father's death) envelope her like an old friend.

Due to the maternal way she had begun to regard Osgood, losing her made her long to have her real children in her arms, but both of them were far away and painfully out of her reach.

Telling the family was awful enough to make her nauseous, but the thought of anyone else telling them was worse. She didn't think she would ever forget the breakdown Osgood's beautiful sister had when she was told.

The next week, the flowers arrived. Kate took them into her office and locked the door before putting her head down on the desk and crying all over again for the girl who _just hadn't deserved it._

The funeral was a small affair. Kate only spoke briefly, because she could hardly go into detail about their work, but she tried to make her words count. When she looked out at the small group of people gathered in mourning, she wasn't surprised for even a moment to see the grey-haired man with attack eyebrows sitting at the back of the room, though she _was_ surprised that he was on his own.

Afterwards, she found him.

"I'm sorry for what I said."

The Doctor's blue eyes were far more understanding than she possibly deserved. "And I'm sorry for what I failed to do," he said simply.

"Do you want to come and have tea with me?" She asked, surprising herself as well as him. "Only…I don't think I want to be on my own today, and I haven't really got anyone else."

He gave her the smallest hint of a smile. It wasn't happy, but it also wasn't entirely sad. "I'd like nothing more."

* * *

 **I'm really sorry. But I'd love to know what you thought.**

 **-MayFairy**


End file.
